One More Dance
by Al-And-Toni
Summary: When star basketball player, Alfred F. Jones, and student council president Arthur Kirkland accidentally run into each other before school in a chance meeting... Well, things can only go uphill from there, right? Not really. -A collaboration- USUK
1. Chapter 1

Alfred sat on the edge of his bed, glaring out of his window. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the pad of his pointer finger. The sun was barely up and almost everything was still cloaked in darkness. He watched as the movers brought multiple boxes in the house next door, frowning when he noticed that some of the workers were yelling in about how the boxes where labeled "Fragile" on their sides. What a bunch of rich snobs. He stared out of the window for a few more minutes before Alfred dragged himself away from it. The dirty blond shuffled over to his closet and grabbed a black shirt with 'Hero' written down the front and a random pair of ripped up jeans. He put them on with a loud line of curses, which got him a even louder scolding from his mom.

"Alfred, stop using such foul language all the time," she yelled at him as she poked her head into his room, her slightly lighter-blond hair going everywhere. "Your brother can hear you!"

Alfred just rolled his eyes at his mother's nagging. _He was 15 and Matthew was 14! They were old enough to be able to say whatever they wanted to!_

After wasting a few more minutes by moping around, he went downstairs to get some breakfast. He was greeted with a plate of homemade pancakes and his brother, Matthew, shoveling his own pile of the tasty smelling pancakes in his mouth. He smirked as he watched his usually quiet brother stuff himself like a pig. With a small chuckle, he sat himself down next to his brother to enjoy his breakfast. He slowly cut his pancakes, pressing down hard to make sure that the butter knife was scraping across the glass plate. He gave out a loud laugh when Matthew gave him a if-you-don't-stop-right-now-I'm-going-to-make-you-regret-ever-existing glare. Al chuckled nervously when Matthew picked up his own knife in a threatening manner, which meant that Al was on his brother's **very** last straw, and began to cut the pancakes like any other normal person would. A few quiet minutes passed between Alfred and Matthew, but then _someone_ decided to stroll through.

"Have you gotten' a date for Prom yet, Alfy?" His mom gave him a teasing look as she walked into the dinning room. His brother was already asked out by some guy called Gilbert, and his mother wouldn't let it go since. Why can't anybody see that he felt like only going with his friends this year! It wasn't like he couldn't get a date- he was popular enough. He just didn't feel like having to take on that much responsibility. He wanted to have fun during his Sophomore year. After finishing his plate, saying goodbye to his brother and mother, and swinging his backpack onto his back, he was greeted with the cool February air. Alfred smiled, his blue eyes gleaming, as he pushed his glasses up his nose and began the quick jog to school. Hopefully, he could get to basketball practice a little earlier than usual.

* * *

Al reached the school building a few minutes before he usually got there, giving him a little more time to prepare for basketball practice. Just liked he had hoped.

"Looks like I'll be the one to set up the gym today," he sighed as he looked around the boys changing room, which was completely empty of was _always_ doing something for the team. It was a little bit strange, but maybe everyone was late because it was a Monday. He was _always_ doing something for the team. After getting dressed in his grey practice uniform that belonged to the school and dragging the basketball cart into the biggest gym, he began practice. Alone.

After what seemed like hours, one of the team members sneaked in.

"Hola amigo, how's it going?" came a thick Spanish accent from behind Alfred. The surprised Alfred shot his ball by accident, causing it to miss the basket by a long shot even though he was only a few feet away from the basket. He silently cursed under his breath and turned around to whack his team mate. He gave the brown-haired kid a good hit on top the head and pulled him in for a headlock.

"Dang it, Toni!" The American jokingly yelled at the Spaniard as he ruffled his hair. Antonio squeaked a little when Alfred's grip seemed to get even more tighter, if that was even humanly possible.

"¡Eh, that was your fault," Antonio called out as soon as he escaped Alfred's deathly grip and went to grab his own basketball. Alfred ran after his ball and dribbled it back to the basket he was shooting at before. He glanced at Antonio to make sure he was doing what he was doing was productive, which ended up with him working on layups, and then continued to practice shooting from different places on the court. The sandy-blond American dribbled over to the free throw line and started to twirl the ball in his hands. He stuck out his tongue, an old habit that annoyed him greatly, and got into shooting position. Just before he shoot the ball he was interrupted by the loud banging of the door.

He turned around to spot who created the noise that almost cost him his shoot, annoyed curiosity plastered onto his face.

"D-do either one of you know where the library is?" asked a sharp British accent.

* * *

**VERY loud sounds of frustration. Sorry for the hella crappy start, but I REALLY stink at beginnings. AND my computer managed to lose my first copy that I was proud of. Maybe I should come back later to make it longer... oh wellz. Did you know that Spain in the second best country that plays basketball. Right behind Alfred! Well I hope this is good enough. Adios amigos! -The stupid Tonie  
**

**Hetalia is not ours.**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Scotland=Allistor_**

* * *

"Aww, c'mon, Arthur! At least think aboot it!"

Arthur sighed and shook his head, causing a few unruly golden locks of hair to fall into his eyes. He had tried walking faster, hugging the wall, and even ducking into doorways to get away from him, but to no prevail, as the infuriating man simply closed in closer on him and grabbed his arm every time he tried to duck away and, ultimately, had blocked his escape attempts in one way or another _every single time_. It had started out for Arthur as a simple trip to the library to check out a Sherlock Holmes book, but of course, as fate would have it, he had gotten lost and happened to run into his oldest and most obnoxious brother- Allistor. And of course, he had bumped into his sibling while he was observing some stupid poster about the upcoming prom. For some reason, Allistor had the most daft idea that his short-tempered, bushy-browed younger brother could score a date in time for the event. When he tried to explain his theory to Arthur, the latter's face had flushed an interesting shade of red and he spluttered a few insults about his stupidity and intelligence before declining. They had been arguing about it for the past ten minutes, and the answer was always- "Once again, _**no**_, Allistor," although Allistor's stubbornness was keeping the dispute from ending.

"It'll be so much fun! Think of it as a chance fer you to make new friends! Maybe even score yerself a girl!"

Right now, the only thing Arthur cared about was going back to the student council room so he could properly enjoy his daily dose of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in a comfy chair, preferably with a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea in his favourite Union Jack teacup.

"Bugger off! My answer remains firm!" He turned his head when he heard snickering come from his undesired companion, leveling the auburn-haired brother with a cold, green-eyed glare, narrowing his eyes as the latter who was doubled over, holding his stomach, and trying to stifle his laughter with a hand to his mouth. "And what is so incredibly funny to you?"

"Y-Ya said it remained firm- OW! The feck was 'at fer?!" Allistor rubbed his arm where Arthur had socked him with a hard punch- who knew someone so scrawny and 'gentlemanly'- as the Brit would put it- could be so strong?

"Because you were being a dimwit! Look, you're still laughing-!" The snickering turned into strange choking sounds- "-and there is no bloody way I am going to that blasted dance, and that is my final answer! I refuse to embarrass myself for your own personal entertainment!" He stomped away from his brother as fast as he could, the heels of his dress shoes clicking loudly against the linoleum tiled floor of the hallway.

"No! Arthur, just wait, lad!" Allistor sprinted the gap between them, just barely avoiding tripping over his own feet, and grabbed the crook of his brother's elbow before he could get too far away. "I just... I just want ya to make friends," he gasped out, quickly trying to prove his point before the Brit could struggle out of his grasp; the younger of the two was already twisting his arm this way and that in every humanly was possible to try and escape the elder sibling, causing the grip on the inside of his arm to tighten painfully to prevent getaway. "I mean, I know how hard the move was, losing all yer friends and all-"

"I do not need _your_ help," Arthur hissed before he could finish his sentence, yanking his arm free and wincing when red marks were left behind on his skin. "I am perfectly fine, and I happen to enjoy solitude, _thank you very much_." He tugged the sleeve of his dress shirt down, hoping that would be enough to hide the bruise that was beginning to bloom on his forearm. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to class." Before Allistor could protest, the Brit turned around and rushed to the nearest door- which just so happened to be a set of heavy double doors that led to an unmarked room. Seeing his escape route, Arthur hurried and pushed the door open, running inside and slamming it shut behind him.

"Lad, wai-! Aw, shite. I 'ope he realises 'at was the gym."

* * *

Arthur leaned against the metal door, his eyes fluttering shut and releasing a sigh of relief at the peaceful quiet. _Such a nice place_, he thought distantly, slowly sliding down onto the ground and relishing the short time he had for himself. He didn't care too much about where he was, and he let his head loll to the side as he waited for his heart to stop racing so fast.

That is, until he heard a resounding _thump! thump! thump!_ reverberate through the room. The ground beneath him vibrated with each echoing thud until it was so constant, he couldn't take it anymore. His eyes flew open and his lips parted to shout a seething insult to whoever was making the dreadful noise; that is, until he noticed two things.

1: This was definitely not just the abandoned classroom or coat closet where he thought he was hiding from his infuriating older brother and the worries of the world, and 2: he was not alone.

It was then he spotted the two teens, one sandy blonde with the tip of his tongue stuck out in concentration as he aimed for a hoop hanging a good few feet above his head, and one brunette running down the basketball court to catch a runaway ball, playing what he presumed was basketball by the looks of the what was being dribbled. As soon as he spotted them, Arthur jumped up and fumbled around for the handle of the door, his eyes never leaving them for fear of being noticed and getting jumped for intruding or something of that sort. "Bloody handle has to be here somewhere," he muttered to himself, his stomach twisting in knots at the thought of having to explain just _why_ he had decided to dash into the gymnasium during the middle of a practice. His anxiety and frustration only grew when he continuously pushed the handle instead of pulling it, not quite noticing the reason why the door wouldn't open. "Just… OPEN ALREADY!" he hissed under his breath, kicking the metal in fury and, ultimately, making a lot of noise.

Noise... _Wait_…

Arthur stiffened when he noticed the sound of the basketball and footsteps had stopped, and he turned around to spot the two players staring straight at him in curiosity. A blush slowly spread across the Brit's face, and he cleared his throat just to hear something other than his racing heart and the heavy breathing of his unwanted company as they regained their breath from the work out. Neither of them looked too pleased to have been interrupted by some strange, lost kid, especially when that kid cost them a good shot.

"D-do ether one of you know where the library is?" he choked the first thing to come to his mind, twisting his hand in the fabric of his sweater vest and pressing his back against the door in case he needed an easy getaway. There was a brief moment of thick silence that hung in the air. The two athletes glanced at each other, as if pondering the different ways to kill Arthur with the thick tension hanging around them, and the brunette opened his mouth as if to say something until the blonde blurted-

"Woah, British accent!"

Arthur blinked a few times in surprise at the random outburst. So this was one of those types people. For some reason, everyone at the blasted school had immediately picked out his accent as soon as he said more than three words and had tried to bribe him into saying various phrases for their own amusement. It never ceased to amaze him how strange Americans could be. His lips tightened into a straight line, and he gave the sandy blonde a cold look. "Yes, thank you for stating the obvious." He turned to leave, his hand grasping the cold handle of the door, but a different hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"W-Wait! Don't go yet!" Arthur whipped his head around to glower at whoever was touching him, only to be startled by a pair of bright, blue eyes that belonged to the blonde jock. "Look, you want to get to the library, right?" The Briton nodded slowly, trying his best to inch closer to the door without looking too obvious. This kid obviously did not understand the concept of personal space, considering he was breathing down his neck, quite literally, and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable. "Then I'll show you the way there!" The athlete grabbed the confused student's arm, not noticing how he flinched away with a grimace as soon as he grasped his injured elbow. "Make sure everything gets put back in its place before practice, Toni!"

"Oh! Um, okay, Alfred!" The brunette, presumably Toni, called out to him, a thick accent causing him to lisp on his words, but strangely enough it only added to his charm. He scratched the back of his head and glancing around at the basketballs that were slowly rolling around the gym floor. His green eyes darkened slightly when he noticed a few balls roll under the bleachers. "Come back as soon as you can! Practice starts in less than-!"

"I know, I know!" The said teen -Alfred, was it?- interrupted as he threw open the heavy, metal doors without a problem, strolling into the hallway with the reluctant Brit in tow. On the way out, they bumped into a scowling brown-haired boy with a runaway curl on the side of his head who looked like he was in quite a rush, but Arthur was too busy trying to find some way to get rid of the hand on his arm to really care. He gave Alfred a dirty look after he had apologized to the kid, who had shouted something that sounded rather rude in a foreign language, possibly Italian, and went inside of the gym.

"Unhand me, you tosser!" Arthur snapped, pounding his free fist on the American's shoulder in an attempt to force him to release him. Sadly, it didn't seem to work as well on him as it had on Allistor. The athlete just laughed loudly and continued to drag him down the hall, not even bothering to check if his prisoner was keeping up with his quick pace. They got a few strange looks from students and even a few teachers that just so happened to look up at them, causing Arthur's face to heat up more than before and duck his head. It wasn't like he wanted to be with this strange person. He didn't even bloody _know_ him!

"The hell is a tosser, dude? Is that supposed to be some kinda British insult or something?" Alfred asked, grinning down at his companion and snickering more when a glare was sent his way. "You're in America, so speak freaking American! The freedom language!"

"There is no such thing as 'speaking American,'" Arthur muttered under his breath, looking down at the floor and trying not to meet the curious looks the two kept receiving from different classmates as they passed them by. He frowned at a sudden thought that crossed his mind and glanced up. "And why exactly are you wasting your precious time on me? Shouldn't you be helping your little friend with your sports practice?"

"Well, because that's what Heroes do! Hey- don't give me that look!" Alfred gave a childish pout at the funny look Arthur gave him. "It's always been a dream of mine to help people in every way possible, like volunteering and stuff, but if it means helping little angry Englishmen to the library, then I'll do it!" The said Englishman gave an annoyed snort, but he supposed that at least his goal of helping people was something worth admiring. The American stepped aside as they stopped in front of a set of double doors, only this time, they were made of a thick, heavy wood, probably to keep sound from going into the room. There was a silver plaque besides the entryway with an engraving that read, 'Library.' "And here you are!" Alfred said cheerfully. Arthur yanked his arm away from the clutches of his guide and faced the door, only to remember that a proper gentleman would thank the person that brought him here, even if it was some obnoxious and loud-mouthed American he had only met a few minutes earlier on accident.

"Well, thank you for your troubles-" He turned around to face him, only to find an empty hall. Arthur glanced down the other hallways to his left and his right, sighing when he didn't see a person in sight. "-Alfred."

* * *

A/N

**_Thank you so much for reading, guys! c: Hope it was somewhat enjoyable. This is my first time putting out something I've written to the public so yeah. There will be more to come!_**

**_~Al_**


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